


fix a heart don't break it

by redbatman



Series: season 12 [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Coda, Cuddling, Episode: s12e09 First Blood, First Kiss, Getting Together, Holding Hands, Love Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-28
Updated: 2017-01-28
Packaged: 2018-09-20 09:06:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9484301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redbatman/pseuds/redbatman
Summary: Afterwards, they pile back into the car in silence. As Mary starts up the engine, in the backseat Castiel stares at Dean with accusation in his eyes. He swallows the lump in his throat and angles himself away from Cas, ashamed.Castiel won’t have that. He reaches, peels Dean’s trembling fingers away from where they’re clutching his leg and laces their fingers together again with a grip that’s almost violent, like he’s holding onto a fraying rope that’s the only thing keeping him from falling from a cliff into a stormy ocean. He only lets it go when the car stops.





	

**Author's Note:**

> coda for s12 e9 first blood, title is from "make you happy" by mika

Dean is quiet in the car. He’s sitting in the backseat of his car, with Castiel, Mary with her eyes on the road and Sam staring out the window with his jaw set. He’s knocking his knuckles against his knee like he’s agitated and Castiel gazes at him in confusion and concern.

“Dean, are you-” he wants to ask _are you all right_ , but his voice cuts off in a hitch of breath when Dean reaches over and brushes their hands together for just a second, just gently.

Dean doesn’t take his hand away completely, just leaves it resting on the seat next to Cas. He clears his throat uncomfortably and turns his head, forcing himself to meet Castiel’s eyes. “Hey, buddy,” a huff of nervous breath, his voice lowering as if he’s telling a secret. “I love you.”

Castiel’s eyes go wide and Dean smiles self consciously and shrugs, making to turn towards the window and pull his hands back to his lap. When his fingers start to slip back across the seat, Cas lunges forward and grabs them, lacing them together with his own.

Mary smiles quietly. Sam just breathes in deep through his nose and keeps his eyes fixed determinedly at the passing scenery.

***

The reunion lasts for a pathetic amount of time before Billie explains the deal. Mary and Castiel look at him in horror while Dean, ever the martyr, sets his jaw and makes it clear who he intends to be the Winchester that dies tonight. Mary rushes forward with no hesitation, and Castiel feels a wave of deep love and deep sadness wash over him. How will he ever get these brave, stupid, beautiful people to stop lining up to throw themselves on the sword?

Dean’s eyes go wide in horror as he realizes that a fatal wrench has been thrown in yet another one of his carefully laid out plan to sacrifice his life for others. He and his brother beg their mother to stop, but she breathes deep and stands solid like an unstoppable object rooted to the earth. Her face is almost calm as she raises the gun to her head, full of the absolute courage of her conviction. The expression is so heartbreakingly familiar.

 _Dean Winchester is truly his mother’s son_ , Castiel thinks. Resignation hangs heavy in his heart and he knows what he has to do.

There’s no time.

Afterwards, they pile back into the car in silence. As Mary starts up the engine, in the backseat Castiel stares at Dean with accusation in his eyes. He swallows the lump in his throat and angles himself away from Cas, ashamed.

Castiel won’t have that. He reaches, peels Dean’s trembling fingers away from where they’re clutching his leg and laces their fingers together again with a grip that’s almost violent, like he’s holding onto a fraying rope that’s the only thing keeping him from falling from a cliff into a stormy ocean. He only lets it go when the car stops.

When they get back into the bunker, Mary starts shaking. Sam goes easily to her side, holding his arms open, and she effortlessly pulls him close. He dwarfs her in size but he still tries to tuck himself in underneath her arms, making himself as small as possible.

Watching them, Dean is startled and embarrassed to feel tears well up in his eyes. Castiel’s large hand reaches out to loosely grip his arm, thumb rubbing gently at the inside of his elbow.

“We need to talk,” there’s no question in the solemn rumble of his voice. Dean’s heart knocks itself out on his ribcage, but he pushes past his paranoia.

“Okay,” he worries his bottom lip in his teeth and lets Castiel lead him into the kitchen.

Immediately, Dean tries to leap into a debrief of their prison escape and discussion of what their next steps are going to be after this latest mishap with death. Castiel sighs so deeply that Dean almost feels offended. “Hey, what man?” he quips. “Am I boring you?”

Castiel looks down at his hands, lacing his own fingers together in a parody of the way they held hands in the Impala. “Were you just planning on ignoring what you tried to do?” he says, voice quivering again the way it did when he said _I won’t let you die_. When he said _You mean to much to me_. “I won’t let it pass.”

He feels tears slip silently down his cheeks. “I missed you so much Castiel,” he almost whispers, his voice is suddenly so hoarse with emotion. “I just wanted to see you one last time.”

He looks up at Dean, face a mask of exhaustion and cathartic sadness. “You can’t-you can’t _do_ things like that,” Castiel bristles all over and Dean’s fingers twitch with the urge to reach out to him but he refrains. He feels like he might get shocked if he did, like touching a bolt of lightning. There was something about Castiel tonight that made him feel young again, like when they first met in a barn covered with useless sigils. His hair is even a little dishevelled from the action of the night, reminiscent of the slightly younger version of himself, who always looked like he’d just landed from flight. There are moments like this, where Dean feels suddenly hyperaware that Castiel is an _angel_ , so ancient and so powerful and somehow his.

“I know you have always seen yourself as inherently less worthy of life than the others around you, but the persistent _idea_ you have that your family-that _I_ -could accept your senseless death has been incorrect every single time you have tried it. And you can’t tell me…” Castiel chokes. “That you _love me_ and then tell me that you are going to die.”

Tears are silently rolling down Dean’s cheeks and he feels the stiffness of his skin where they’re already drying. “I couldn’t go without saying it. I didn’t think-I’ve never thought that you’d-” his voice breaks and he clears his throat in embarrassment. “You’ve never wanted to _stay_ -”

“Dean?” Castiel interjects and Dean hums. “You are beautiful and kind and brave and good and your soul shines brighter than every star in the sky, but you are an absolute moron.”

He laughs, and God it’s been so long since he laughed. “Wow, thanks, buddy.”

Castiel arches his eyebrows and smirks at him. “If there’s a more effective way to convey your interest to a man than rebelling against heaven for him, by all means let me know.”

Dean can’t stop smiling. “You’re an insufferable smug son of a bitch, did you know that?” he quips, pushing at Castiel’s shoulder and Cas just hums and reels him in until they’re kissing in the middle of the bunker kitchen.

Dean lets himself sag into Castiel, feeling how solid he is, how capable Cas is of holding him tight and keeping both of them upright and still. “I meant it,” he mumbles somewhere into his shoulder and Castiel’s lips brush his temple almost imperceptibly.

“I assumed you did,” Cas says. “That made it worse, you know, what you tried to do.”

“I’m sorry,” Dean huffs a breath into his neck. “Do you wanna go to bed?”

Castiel pulls back just far enough to reach up and wipe at the tears and tear tracks on his face. “Yes, I think I would.”

Dean practically leans on Castiel like a crutch the entire way to his bedroom. Whatever, he’s always been a bit touch-starved, and he’s been trapped in solitary confinement for almost two months, so sue him. When he opens the door he’s surprised to see that the room looks lived in. “I had taken to sleeping here,” Cas admits. “While you were away. It made me feel closer to you, like I could feel your presence, your signs of life.”

He feels tears threaten to spill over again as he takes in the dishevelled room. “Couldn’t you have made the bed?” are the first words out of his mouth. He’s going to get better at emotions, he swears.

“Everyone’s a critic,” Castiel deadpans and Dean can’t help but kiss him again in the doorway of his bedroom.

Still holding onto him, Cas leads them to the bed where he reluctantly lets go and begins to slowly get undressed. When they’re both down to their underwear, they get under the covers and slot themselves together like two puzzle pieces. Castiel seems to have a sudden interest in kissing every feature of Dean’s face, moving from forehead to cheeks, kissing both eyelids, chin, nose and finally a softly smiling mouth.

They turn off the light to sleep and Dean rolls onto his side, pulling on Castiel’s arm to urge him to slot in behind him. Cas gets the hint and throws an arm over Dean’s stomach, pulling him tight into his chest and pressing his nose and lips to the nape of Dean’s neck.

“I love you,” Dean blurts out in the darkness.

He can feel Cas smile against his neck. “It’s always been one of the fundamental laws of the universe that I love you, Dean.”

**Author's Note:**

> back again after two months of nothing! school + mental illness + work = not good for writing but i'm really happy with this so i hope people enjoy it. i'm on tumblr at killvvmaims if anyone wants to hmu i mostly spend my days angrily writing tags about how much i hate dean winchester's face.


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